


the taste of your tongue

by xTammyVx



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Niall, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Morning Sex, Omega Zayn, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 14:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2654660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xTammyVx/pseuds/xTammyVx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barking out a laugh, Niall grinds his soft cock against Zayn’s bum, squeezing his thighs. “Don’t think Paul’d like it if you had to go for a third trip to the studio because you buggered off to sit on my knot,” he points out. Zayn snorts.</p><hr/><p>Zayn wakes Niall up from his nap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the taste of your tongue

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: _Can I have an omega!Zayn fic? Literally any fic with alpha niall, because in this whole fandom there's just one omega!Zayn Ziall fic and that makes me sad._  
>  \--Anon
> 
> Cheers to my betas, [freakforhoran](http://freakforhoran.tumblr.com/), and [laziallgna](http://laziallgna.tumblr.com/)!

Niall swears that he’s getting his hair and makeup done before his eyes are actually open, nearly nodding off as Lou dusts his face with powder. He’s exhausted even though the schedule doesn’t really allow for sleepiness at midday, nor snoozes between shoots and other stuff, though that doesn’t stop any of them from trying.

He’s getting crankier by the minute. Doesn’t help that Zayn’s away, or that Louis and Harry are being so _loud_ with their gibber-gabber and general roughhousing. Liam’s great—really, he is—but if he talks about Sophia’s lips one more time, Niall’s gonna deck him. Maybe. Probably not. Liam’s eyes are too big, their brows too comically sad when he knows he’s annoyed someone, for anyone to hit him – least of all Niall, Mr. Peacekeeper, Mr. Calls His Mum Every Other Day, Mr. Laidback. He’s just over everything right now, is all.

When the lads are finally distracted enough by each other, Niall sneaks away, Batman style. Peeking around corners. Head down. Zayn is with yesterday’s photographer, since “the lighting was all wrong” and they _had_ to do it again, which _would_ be fine. They’re not _that_ couple. They can survive separately without crying and texting every two minutes. It’s just that Niall’s looming rut is making him a bit frisky and grumpy when he can’t watch over his mate from a close range, being quiet and protective while steering away any potential hints of flirtation. He just likes to observe, making sure they’re doing his face justice, that Zayn’s having a good time and not getting uncomfortable and closed-off.

“My alpha,” Zayn says when Niall gets all moody. “My poor alpha with a little frown on his lovely face.”

_Where’d you go? :’(((((((((_

As he curls up in his bunk for a hopefully uninterrupted, relaxing wank, Niall considers replying to Harry’s text, but can’t bring himself to starve his knot of the attention it deserves for a second longer.

* : ・ﾟ❧ ﾟ・: *

* * *

* : ・ﾟ❧ ﾟ・: *

Groggy, disoriented, still grumpy, and horny as ever, Niall is blinking at the roof of his bunk because Zayn’s hand is in his hair, sweet voice murmuring nice things.

“You waking up, love? Move over, like.” Niall follows the directions even though he ends up squished against the wall, so Zayn can slide one thigh over his hips.

“Ow,” he grunts. “Mornin’. Whass’ the craic?”

“Two o’ clock. Three hour trip, and I was gonna, like, let you sleep, but you’re scenting up the whole bleeding bus,” Zayn murmurs. Those tighty-whiteys are doing wonders for his skin, and Niall shoves a hand up Zayn’s vest top as his pulse gets heavy in his knot again, stuck under the pressure of Zayn’s arse. “Y’smell really good, like.”

“New cologne, Eau De I Spunked In My Duvet,” Niall grins.

Now that he’s actually waking up from his blurry haze and recognising that burn that grows so slowly but in such a demanding way, Niall can’t help touching Zayn over and over in firm rubs and sweeps of his hands. Zayn is smooth from his neck to his thighs, where the body hair he has gets darker, coarse on his shins and calves. Zayn’s one to talk; he fucking reeks too, like sex and wanting.

“Were you thinking of me?” Zayn asks, shifting into Niall’s touch with little rocking motions.

Niall nods. “Of course.”

“Should’ve called,” Zayn says. “I’d’ve listened.”

Barking out a laugh, Niall grinds his soft cock against Zayn’s bum, squeezing his thighs. “Don’t think Paul’d like it if you had to go for a third trip to the studio because you buggered off to sit on my knot,” he points out. Zayn snorts.

A warm, fuzzy flush breaks out under Niall’s skin. This has obviously caught Zayn off-guard since he’s pink and squirming and wet, Niall can feel it between his arse cheeks, that damp, sweaty heat more than enough to make his cock stir in interest.

“Hate shaggin’ in the bunks,” Niall grumbles, leaning into the kiss Zayn’s offering despite himself. He grabs at Zayn’s cock quite crudely, squeezing out a blotch of precome that smears on the front of his pants.

“Aw, poor baby,” Zayn coos through his teeth.

“I wanna eat you out, too, but I can’t in this.” Niall taps the wall and Zayn whimpers, rubbing their dicks together, lost to Niall’s scent already. He’s just coming off a heat (during which they had the most intense sex marathon Niall’s ever had the privilege to experience, doing it five different ways on the sofa alone) and his body’ll be wondering why it’s in for a fierce dicking so soon.

“Like, I’m just a bit… shaky, from last time,” Zayn mumbles.

Niall remembers then that it’s only been a couple of days, four sleeps including two naps making it seem like a little while ago. They started with Niall standing, Zayn on his back on the bed with his knees to his chest, three loads’ worth of his own come dribbling down his crinkled tummy, and Niall wasn’t even halfway to finishing. He finally got there, on top of Zayn and taking him from behind while Zayn just lay there, moaning and coming and whining, sometimes all at once. It took five orgasms for Zayn to empty out, eight to start crying though begging Niall to keep going, and twelve to turn to unmovable mush. He fell asleep just a minute after Niall’s knot went down enough for him to pull out and go to get a wet cloth, all messy and dirty with both their spunk.

“We’ll go easy,” Niall promises, his briefs’ tightness showing off the full bulk of his cock, which gives an eager blurt of stickiness like a little cheer.

“’Kay,” Zayn agrees. “I’m horny, and, like, you _do_ smell so good.”

“There’s a good lad,” Niall grins.

This isn’t even the main event – this is the seduction. This is like a neon sign with something sleazy like, “ _How can you **knot** resist?_ ” or some shit, out there to round up potential mates like a lasso. It’ll take a couple of hours for Niall to be well with it and digging his nails in, fucking Zayn harder than hard and petting him afterwards like he’s handling something finer than china, which he totally is.

Still, they kiss and kiss and kiss till they’re groaning, rocking their hips into each other. Zayn’s making a right mess of Niall’s boxers with his slick soaking his pants, but he’s letting Niall nibble and suck on the meaty part of his shoulder, leaving no room for complaints. Niall hooks one finger past Zayn’s rim with ease, leaving it there like a tease so he can watch Zayn get desperate and needy.

“When you’re in your rut and proper pawing at my fuckin’ arse I swear to god…” Zayn stops to lick his lips. “I’m gonna walk all hips, ’nd make you open me up with just your tongue, you absolute tit.”

“You don’t mean that,” Niall smirks, smacking a light hand on Zayn’s bum cheek and growling playfully.

Zayn rubs his nose on Niall’s. “You got me. Didn’t mean it. Love you,” he says breathily, and fucks into Niall’s hand and back.

He’s all heat and slick and the shy hiccup-moans when Niall wiggles his fingertip over his prostate, smirking when Niall shoves his hips up too hard and jostles him.

“Want it? C’mon, love, nice and slowly, please,” Zayn whispers, tucking into Niall’s chest.

Curling one arm around Zayn’s back as he kisses the side of his head, Niall tugs his dick out of his briefs and rubs it against Zayn’s hole, his bare tip getting sticky with more than precome.

“Love it when you’re really wet,” Niall grins. Zayn adjusts so that Niall _just_ pokes inside. “Condom?”

“You wanna clean up your bunk when it’s soaked with jizz an’ that, yeah?” Niall’s face scrunches up. “Didn’t think so.”

A pouch is wedged between the mattress and the wall with all their special things – pretty innocent stuff considering its nature. Condoms. Lube. A little vibrator for when they’re too lazy to have sex. Two cock rings for hotel nights where they have all the time in the world. A USB with naughty pictures and videos of Zayn to get Niall through when Zayn’s not around.

They both like to be prepared.

Niall puts a hand behind his head, leaving Zayn to roll the rubber down his cock, latex snug on his flushed knot. Zayn’s lips go pouty around the groan that rumbles through him. Niall knows that this—the stretch, the burn—is the difficult part so he lies pliant and lazy, not selfish enough to tell Zayn that his rut’s starting to thrum a fair bit harder than when he started, rolling in like waves, particularly between his legs. His fingernails tense on Zayn’s thighs. Pulling them down Zayn’s thighs to his knees, Niall elicits a wonderfully low noise, pleased with himself beyond belief.

“Baby, take your time,” he reminds Zayn, and he knows exactly what his sex voice does, knows how Zayn always kinda relaxes when he hears it, like he’s being reassured of something amazing. “We don’t have to rush—” Zayn shifts and tightens for a second, cutting Niall off. “We don’t have to rush messing you up, you dirty thing.”

“Me, dirty? You’re dirty,” Zayn grins.

He bobs up, wiggles down, over and over, bumps and grinds and bounces as he seeks out a rhythm, his first orgasm hot on Niall’s chest, a small splatter even reaching his eyelid.

“Oh-ho-ho,” he cackles, wiping it away. “Gross.”

Zayn just snickers as Niall licks it off his finger, a hot puff of air just inches off Niall’s face. He’s having to curve forward due to the ridiculous restrictions of the bunk, and Niall thinks that this’d be so much easier in the kitchen. Maybe next time.

They meet each other halfway, and between the thrusts and the bouncing, Niall feels like they’re rocking the whole bus. Fucking like champs. Like gods. He bucks up into Zayn, Zayn comes on him again, three in total. He clenches down each time, Niall yelping and his knees jerking up. It doesn’t take a lot—it never does with Zayn, who easily had Niall coming in his pants well into seventeen and eighteen, haha—till Niall’s knot swells up inside Zayn. Panting hard, he scrabbles at Zayn’s skin, his back, finding purchase on his arse with a double handful to hold, letting out an _ohhh_ -type sigh with his eyes squeezed shut.

“Good, yeah? My alpha, my Niall, claim me, fucking _do_ it,” Zayn pleads, breaking off into his own moan when Niall whimpers around a harsh bite of Zayn’s shoulder, teeth clinging to him while he stays as deep as he can get.

Some people think it’s trashy to bite, but Niall loves Zayn. All of him. He loves his taste – be it skin or dick or come or arse or sweat or his mouth, his soft lips, his gentle tongue. Finally he settles back, caresses Zayn when he sags on top of Niall, fucked out and breath still far from its normal, calm pace.

“Oh my god,” Zayn mumbles, and Niall nods in agreement. His stomach clenches hard when his dick decides to spit out some more. “Yeah, Niall, come on.”

“Feels like it’s… gonna stay big for a while,” Niall admits.

“Mm,” Zayn smiles back. “Love your stupid knot.”

“Knot’s not stupid,” Niall frowns, and gestures to the dots and streaks of come he’s sporting down his chest as evidence.

“I’m an artist – you're a canvas,” Zayn shrugs.

Niall falls asleep cradling his mate, only waking up when his soft dick slips out, condom sagging and full when Zayn peels it off and takes it to the bin.

“Keep it as a souvenir,” Niall suggests.

“Oh, yeah. Great idea,” Zayn nods sarcastically, grinning as he climbs into the bloody bunk that nobody thought to design with room for more than one person. Honestly, what were they thinking? They manage to slip into their usual position—Zayn is little spoon—with someone else’s much less stained duvet over them.

“Gonna shag in the kitchen, next. None’a this crouchin’ down bullshite,” Niall promises.

“You’ll make Liam cross,” Zayn warns.

“Fuck ’im,” Niall says.

Zayn peers over his shoulder. “Thought you were fucking me?”

“Ugh, go to sleep,” Niall groans.

“Love you, even though you’re moody and tired,” Zayn grins, pecking Niall’s hand with a gentle kiss.

“Yeah, well, I love you even though you’re smelly,” Niall snorts. He snuggles in, takes in Zayn’s sweaty scent from the nape of his neck and savours the way it makes his tummy go squiggly and warm.

Zayn scoffs, “Hypocrite,” and squeezes Niall’s wrist.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 3OH!3's _My First Kiss_.
> 
> Tumblr is [camonialle](http://camonialle.tumblr.com/)!


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